If
David Foster Wallace and Toni Morrison were to join together over a meal, their
conversation would revolve around one awakening topic that would lead to much
contemplation- suicide. Wallace would begin by quoting himself saying, “…adults
who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in the head.
And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they
pull the trigger.” He would then say that we are slaves- slaves of our own
making simply because of our hard-wired default-setting of selfishness that led to our own mortality.
Morrison, being the wise woman from her story, would bend her wrist to let the
wine slowly circulate around the bottom of her glass.
She would look up to him and say, “Are we slaves of our making, David, or are
we slaves burdened by the adults who reared us?” She would then do as he did
and quote herself saying, “…children have bitten their tongues off and use
bullets instead to iterate the voice of speechlessness, of disabled and
disabling language, of language adults have abandoned altogether as a device
for grappling with meaning, providing guidance, or expressing love.” Wallace
would listen contently as the words continued to flow from her mouth, “At the
end of my Nobel Lecture I spoke a metaphor. I spoke of a boy climbing into a
wagon with a lantern, innocent as can be, to help feed slaves in the blistering
cold. But, I also said that three years from then, he would be the one holding
the gun. How would that boy have changed so drastically if not from an outside influence? Now, after asking that question, David, do you still believe that we are slaves of our own making?”
Wallace would think over her question but would regretfully say he was out of
time to continue their dinner. Morrison would stand
up, shake his hand, and they would depart, going separate ways, as old friends
do.
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